


full of american spirit

by preromantics



Category: Speed Skating RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-12
Updated: 2010-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"American spirit," JR says when they walk away, waving the popsicle in front of Apolo's face before peeling the wrapper away to take a loud, obnoxious lick up the side of it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	full of american spirit

"Hey, wait," JR says, doubling back and knocking into Apolo's side, headed towards one of the open vendors.

Apolo rolls his eyes at JR's back, contemplating continuing back to the room to relax for a while before the team's training slot before following him.

JR is sort of bouncing on his heels when Apolo moves to stand next to him, nodding his head at a guy who looks vaguely menacing before cutting around him. "Your three thousand calorie lunch wasn't enough?" Apolo asks, and JR punches him in the arm.

"Weak," Apolo says with a short laugh.

"Firecracker," JR says to the lady at the service counter, ignoring Apolo completely.

Apolo frowns when the service woman hands a red, white, and blue popsicle over the counter to JR, who takes it with a grin.

"American spirit," JR says when they walk away, waving the popsicle in front of Apolo's face before peeling the wrapper away to take a loud, obnoxious lick up the side of it.

Apolo shuts his eyes briefly, resisting the urge to roll them and most definitely not resisting the urge to watch JR eat a popsicle in the most obnoxious manner possible. "You went back for a popsicle because you are a kid," Apolo says, working a grin onto his face, "not because of your American spirit, kid."

JR sucks down the popsicle with a slurp before they hit the stairs. "You're just jealous you can't have one because it would clash with your bandana," he says.

\--

JR spends most of the walk back to the US dorms in the village with the popsicle in his hand, going far enough as to put a hand over it to shield it from the sun, ("It's too warm out," he grumbles, and Apolo tries to work out when he can use some sort of pun about protection and popsicles when they are next in a public place.)

When they get back to the room, JR stands outside the door sort of helplessly, shrugging at Apolo and grinning. Both of his hands are sticky, the one holding his popsicle with lines of red and blue dripped down his wrist in bright running lines.

Apolo follows a line of blue melting ice making it's way down JR's forearm for a little bit longer than necessary before turning to open the door, JR pushing past him with a sticky pat to the back of his Apolo's neck. Apolo groans, and JR is already across the room, lounged on the bed -- Apolo's bed, damnit -- with a triumphant grin at his popsicle.

"Out," Apolo says, pointing in the direction of JR's bed, trying to narrow his eyes to look vaguely threatening, even though that rarely works on anyone.

JR licks up the side of his arm while staring at Apolo, and Apolo completely knows it's just JR's way of being obnoxious and saying he's not moving, but it looks more like a (poorly executed, okay, Apolo is not that easy, really,) seduction technique that Apolo just throws the nearest thing he can find (shaving cream) at JR.

"Dick," JR says, too many shades close to fondly.

Apolo wants to make a remark about language, kid, or calling JR's mother to get the soap, except the way JR has his popsicle popped back in his mouth, lips red around it, doesn't incline Apolo to really point out how young JR is at the moment. He sighs instead, grabbing his book from the top of his suitcase and settling into a chair by the window.

\--

The thing about being in a room with no TV, in the middle of the day while sports are going on and training sessions are being held, is that it gets really, really quiet.

Apolo is pretty sure JR doesn't intend to be so loud with his popsicle, because the sounds he's making are sort of obscene, wet and smacking, popping noises and swallows, and god, Apolo could not concentrate on his book if he tried.

His chair is situated with it's back to the window, unfortunately facing the beds, so while failing to concentrate on his book, Apolo finds himself staring directly above it, right over at the beds.

JR is still sprawled out, head back on the pillow -- Apolo's pillow, jesus -- eyes closed, sucking the popsicle in and out of his mouth, practically swallowing it all the way down to the stick, rhythmic and everything.

Apolo wants to reach for headphones, or get up and go down early to stretch, or quite possibly even jump out the window. If he closes his eyes for long enough he sees flashes of a whole host of other, definitely not appropriate to do with JR, fuck, things he'd liked to do.

"This is so good," JR says, smacking his lips into their shared silence. Apolo pretends he wasn't staring and tries to look nonchalant when JR sits up a bit with the end of the popsicle back in his mouth, enough of it gone that the tips of his fingers end up between his stretched lips as well.

Apolo shifts in his chair. "Sounds like it," he says, because it's the first thing he can think of that wouldn't come out like a mix of strangled vowels.

JR laughs, deep, and Apolo looks up from the book just in time to watch JR bite into the last of his popsicle, sucking it up into his mouth loudly and looking at Apolo with an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously," JR says after he's swallowed, "So good."

Apolo nods, maybe makes a sound (he hopes the sound that he makes doesn't actually sound like what he hears) and stares back down at his book. JR shifts on the bed but Apolo doesn't look up, scanning the page in front of him for words that make sense now that the whole popsicle thing is finally over. After a few seconds turns a page uncomprehendingly.

"Wow," JR says, voice suddenly closer, right at the edge of the bed, "you finally turned a page."

Apolo raises an eyebrow at him, tucking his legs closer to the chair. How JR shifted to the edge of the bed, close enough to the chair to reach out and touch is beyond Apolo, but hey, he was sort of distracted. This close Apolo can see the bright red color of JR's lips, puffier and slick, blue and red stained around the edges.

"Seriously," JR says, like Apolo really needed to see him open his mouth, see the blue stain on his tongue, the brightness of his teeth against it all, "Did you do hooked on phonics when you were a kid? You suck at reading."

"You --" Apolo says, frowning and shutting his book. "Shut up." He goes to stand and JR intercepts him, getting up from the bed and pushing Apolo back into the chair. (It's not that hard; Apolo feels vaguely disoriented right now, half-hard in his jeans and wondering if JR's lips are still cold and how they'd feel around his --)

When Apolo catches his bearings in the chair again, JR is on his knees, which, okay that would be great if he wanted to do some early in-room training, but Apolo highly doubts that's what is going on.

"You're so dense," JR says, hands on Apolo's knees.

Apolo takes a minute, shutting his eyes and then looking down at JR, grinning up at him, between his legs, jesus. "Little jerk," Apolo says, finally, "was that you trying to seduce me?"

JR runs his hand further up Apolo's inner thigh, grinning small. "Maybe," he says, "I'm guessing it worked."

Apolo reaches down to flick JR in the head but ends up grinning back at him instead, twisting his fingers into JR's head. "You went all out on that popsicle," he says, slouching back in the chair, content for now with the way everything is turning out, if not still a little disoriented by the sudden desire, "do you have any more in you?"

"More than that," JR says, ducking down, and Apolo groans, low, and doesn't make a joke about being full of American spirit because after a few minutes (okay, closer to a few seconds, but seconds are important in races, so it fits,) he can't actually find words.

–

Later that night when JR gets back from some errant press for their relay, Apolo watches from his bed as JR goes to the room's mini fridge to grab a bottle of water.

Inside is a box of firecracker popsicles, wedged in carefully around ice packs.

Apolo has just enough time to roll off his bed when JR turns around and throws one of them at him.

(When JR comes leaping over the bed, though, only to land on Apolo and arch his neck back like an invitation, grinding his hips down just off the edge of too-hard, Apolo figures he's not too mad about the hint.)


End file.
